After the ball, Penelope went straight to her bedchambers as her family arrived home at the Featherington estate in Mayfair. She shed her elegant gown and slipped into her nightclothes, the cool fabric against her skin offering a welcome respite from the whirlwind of the evening's events. Lying on her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, her thoughts consumed by the memory of Anthony's declaration of his suit.
As she lay there, her thoughts drifted back to her past interactions with the Viscount, and a flush crept onto her cheeks as she recalled the warmth of his gaze and the tenderness in his voice. Suddenly, every flower and chocolate he had gifted her took on a new significance, and she could not help but wonder about the true depth of his feelings for her.
But as her mind wandered further, Penelope found herself swept up in a whirlwind of improper thoughts, imagining the rakish ways Anthony might touch her, kiss her, if they were to become husband and wife. She unconsciously reached out her fingers to touch her lips as she thought of kissing Anthony. The very idea sent a thrill coursing through her veins, even as she grappled with the reality of what such a union would mean.
The notion of becoming the Viscountess was both thrilling and terrifying to Penelope Featherington. While it had always been her dream to be accepted into the esteemed Bridgerton family, she could not help but doubt whether she was truly worthy of such a prestigious title. She was painfully aware of her own shortcomings; her plump figure, her modest origins, her status as a wallflower. She could not shake the nagging fear that society would never accept her as the Viscount Bridgerton's bride.
Would Anthony be truly satisfied with her as his wife, she wondered, her heart heavy with uncertainty. And what of his past lovers, the beautiful and talented opera singer who had graced his arms? How could she ever hope to measure up to those beautiful ladies in the eyes of a bachelor like him?
Lost in a whirlwind of doubt and insecurity, Penelope sighed heavily, the weight of her thoughts pressing down upon her like a leaden blanket. For in that moment, surrounded by the opulence of her bedchamber, she could not help but feel the crushing weight of society's expectations bearing down upon her, threatening to smother the fragile spark of hope that flickered within her heart.
The next day
As the Bridgerton family arrived at the Royal Ascot, Anthony Bridgerton's anticipation mingled with apprehension as he scanned the crowd in search of Penelope Featherington. It has come to his knowledge last night that the youngest redhead might be present for today's social event. However, his heart sank as he caught sight of her. For once again, the redhead was accompanied by Lord Debling, his presence seeming to cast a shadow over his spirits.
Determined to assert his claim on his suit, Anthony instructed his younger brother Benedict to escort their mother and Eloise to the bleachers while he made his way towards Penelope and Lord Debling. With a forced smile masking his inner turmoil, he greeted the pair politely before turning his attention to Penelope.
"Miss Featherington, might I have the pleasure of escorting you to join my family?" He asked, his voice cordial despite the simmering frustration beneath the surface. Anthony knew to himself that with their past encounters, he had started to become attracted to Penelope and seeing the redhead with another man triggered some jealousy in him. He knew that he started to care for Penelope more than just his friend's sister. For God knows, he had already been regarding the redhead as his future wife.
But before Penelope could respond, Lord Debling interjected, his tone dripping with defiance and arrogance. "Bridgerton. I'm afraid the young Miss Featherington is here today by my invitation." He stated, his gaze challenging Anthony's authority.
Anthony's jaw clenched at Lord Debling's audacity, his annoyance flaring into full-blown rage. But before he could respond, Penelope intervened, her voice calm yet firm as she proposed a solution.
"Perhaps we could take our seats beside the Bridgertons, my lord." She suggested, her gaze flickering between Anthony and Lord Debling. "I would like to pay my greetings to Lady Violet, after all."
Lord Debling, realizing he had no choice but to acquiesce to Penelope's wishes, begrudgingly agreed, though the tension between him and Anthony lingered in the air like a palpable force.
As they made their way towards the Bridgerton family, Anthony could not shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. But amidst the bustling crowd and the whispers of onlookers, he found solace in the knowledge that, for now at least, Penelope was by his side.
At the Bleachers
The sun drenched racecourse bustled with the cream of London society, a sea of colorful skills and feathered bonnets swaying in the gentle breeze. As Anthony Bridgerton escorted Penelope towards his family's reserved seats, Lord Alfred Debling trailed behind them like an eager puppy. The trio approached the bleachers where the rest of the Bridgerton clan had already settled.
"Lady Bridgerton, Eloise." Penelope greeted warmly, executing a graceful curtsy. "What a pleasure to see you both on this fine day." Her voice carrying the gentle cadence of genuine friendship.
Violet Bridgerton, ever the picture of grace and warmth, returned the greeting with a soft smile. "Penelope, my dear, you look radiant. How delightful it is for you to have joined us. I do hope you'll find the races exhilarating."
Eloise, who was very happy to see her dearest friend on the same social scene, was bursting with excitement as she saw the redhead. However, seeing the two gentlemen hovering over Penelope, the brunette knew that she would not actually be able to monopolize the youngest Featherington's time and attention for today. Less concerned with the formalities, Eloise gave Penelope a stuck up grin. "Why, Pen, you always bring the most interesting company."
Penelope understood the real meaning behind Eloise's remark and she can only give a dry smile as she acknowledges the brunette's insinuations. She then noticed Benedict who had greeted her with amusement on his twinkled eyes.
The second born son, ever the keen observer, noticed Lord Alfred Debling, who had been closely following his older brother Anthony and Penelope. With a mischievous soul, he could not resist a playful jab at his Viscount brother. Using one of his roguish grins, Benedict turned to Lord Debling. "Ah, Lord Debling, what a pleasure to see you. It appears you have become quite the fixture at these gatherings. We are truly honored by your presence. I trust you'll keep our dear Anthony on his toes today, my good sir?"
Both Penelope and Lord Debling had confusion painted on their features. Their brows furrowed as they tried to understand what Benedict meant by having Debling keep Anthony on his toes. Portraying himself as a gentleman, Lord Debling just acknowledged Benedict's greeting with a courteous nod as he responded. "Mr. Bridgerton, the pleasure is mine. The company of such esteemed friends is always a highlight."
Anthony shot Benedict a warning glance as if telling out loud that he does not agree on Debling's words, addressing them as friends. If anything, he would be the last person in London Anthony would consider a friend. Especially with his annoying presence around Penelope. Though Penelope has stated that Lord Debling is not a suitor, with the latter's efforts in conversation and promenading with her, Anthony knew that it will just be a matter of days before Debling declares his intentions to suit the youngest Featherington.
Once they had all settled into their seats, Benedict undeterred, handed his brother the race program with a flourish, a neatly printed booklet listing all the participating racehorses and their statistics. "Here, brother. Do enlighten us with your equine expertise."
Anthony accepted the program, his fingers brushing against Penelope's as he shared it with her, allowing her to study the details. "Miss Featherington, perhaps you'd care to peruse the statistics? Your sharp mind might discern something we've overlooked."
Penelope's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "You flatter me, Lord Bridgerton. I shall do my best to interpret these figures."
As Penelope studied the program, Anthony leaned in, his voice low and intimate.
"Penelope, what do you make of these fine steeds? Which of them catches your fancy?" Anthony asked the redhead, his tone inviting her opinion with genuine interest.
Before Penelope could respond, Lord Debling interjected, his voice booming with misplaced confidence. Debling was eager to assert his presence to the Featherington girl. "The black steed, Nightshade, will undoubtedly triumph. He has the highest number of wins. We should place our bet on him. It would be folly to bet on any other."
Anthony, a connoisseur of horses, felt a flicker of irritation at Debling's brash confidence. His jaw clenched, barely concealing his annoyance. "While wins are indeed important, Debling, one must consider the horse's lineage, its performance on similar tracks, and the jockey's skill. The chestnut mare, for instance, has shown remarkable improvement in recent races." He raised an eyebrow and countered. "Nightshade may have numerous victories, but his recent form has been less than stellar. I believe another steed may have a better chance."
Turning back to Penelope, Anthony softened his tone. "But I'm eager to hear Miss Featherington's perspective. What say you, my lady? Which horse do you prefer?"
Penelope, aware of the disapproving look on Lord Debling's face, did not waver. After a moment's consideration, she pointed to a lesser-known horse. "I believe Thistlewind has a promising chance. His endurance and recent training suggest he might surprise us all."
Anthony's eyes widened in curiosity and surprise. Thistlewind was indeed an unexpected choice. Nevertheless, he trusted Penelope's judgment. "An unexpected choice. Pray tell, what led you to this decision?"
"While his win record is modest.." Penelope started to explain, her voice gaining confidence as she laid out all points that supported her insight. "I've noticed he performs exceptionally well in today's weather conditions. Moreover, his jockey has a reputation for strategic race management."
Anthony's face lit up with admiration. From his recent calls and interactions with Penelope, he had come to realize how observant and how well-versed her knowledge is. But he had never imagined that her smarts would extend to the topic on horses. "An astute observation Miss Featherington. Thistlewind it is, then. I shall gladly follow your lead and bet on the same horse."
Lord Debling, unwilling to concede, attempted to dissuade her. "Miss Featherington, are you certain? Thistlewind lacks the track record of Nightshade. That horse has barely a chance!"
The youngest Featherington gave Debling a wry smile, her tone polite yet firm. "I appreciate your counsel, my lord. But I am resolved in my choice. Would you be so kind as to place our bets? We wouldn't want to miss the start of the race."
With a reluctant nod, Alfred Debling departed to place the wagers, leaving Anthony and Penelope momentarily free from his presence.
Anthony turned to Penelope, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. "I must thank you, Penelope, for granting me this brief reprieve from Lord Debling's company. Your clever maneuver has granted us a moment's respite from that.. Enthusiastic man."
Penelope's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Why, Anthony, I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I merely wished to secure our wages in a timely manner."
Their shared laughter mingled with the excited chatter around them, a private moment of connection amidst the bustling crowd.
The Result of the Race
Just as Lord Debling returned to his seat, the thundering of hooves filled the air. The entire ton held their collective breath, eyes fixed upon the dusty track where the magnificent beasts vied for supremacy. The race had begun, and among the frontrunners was Thistlewind, the very steed upon which Anthony and Penelope had placed their hopes and wagers.
Anthony Bridgerton, typically the epitome of reserved nobility, found himself transformed by the excitement of the moment. His usual stoic demeanor gave way to unbridled enthusiasm as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes alight with fervor.
"Come on, Thistlewind!" He bellowed, his deep voice carrying across the stands. "Show them your mettle, lad!"
In his enthusiasm, Anthony's hand found its way to Penelope's gripping it tightly. The warmth of his touch and the unexpected display of fervor made Penelope's heart race. She didn't withdraw her hand; instead, she found herself reveling in this rare glimpse of the typically composed Viscount's animated self.
As she observed him, a soft smile played upon her lips. This animated, passionate Anthony was a far cry from the aloof Viscount she had known in passing for so many years. Their interactions had always been limited to polite nods and formal greetings at social gatherings or fleeting encounters at Bridgerton House. It was only with the commencement of this season, when Anthony had begun to call upon her after their dance at the Danbury ball, that Penelope had started to see beyond the facade of the austere Viscount.
Her reverie was abruptly interrupted as Anthony turned to face her, his countenance aglow with unbridled joy. She felt a rush of warmth to her cheeks as she realized he now held both her hands in his, raising them between them.
The first race had ended, and Thistlewind had crossed the finish line first. They had won.
"We've done it, Pen!" Anthony exclaimed, his voice rich with elation. "Thistlewind has claimed victory, all thanks to your astute judgment!"
Penelope's heart swelled at his praise and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. Seeing Anthony so joyful, knowing she had played a part in it, was deeply gratifying. Compliments about her intellect were rare, and this one, from Anthony, felt particularly special.
"You are too kind, Anthony." She replied, her voice soft but steady. "I merely applied a bit of observation and logic. The true credit belongs to Thistlewind and his skilled jockey."
Anthony shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "Nonsense! Your insights were invaluable. I daresay, Miss Featherington, you have quite the eye for horseflesh. Perhaps we should make you the official Bridgerton racing consultant." He added with a playful smirk.
As the two reveled in their shared triumph, Lord Debling stood awkwardly to the side, his face a mask of regret and discomfort. He had stubbornly clung to his original choice of Nightshade, a decision that now left him on the outside of their celebration. To avoid any potential teasing from Anthony, Debling hastily excused himself, citing an old university acquaintance he had spotted in the crowd.
Clearing his throat, Debling affected a weak smile. "Excuse me, Miss Featherington." Debling said, his tone overly polite. "I believe I see a fellow from my university days. I should go and pay my respects."
With a hasty bow, Alfred Debling retreated, leaving Anthony and Penelope to bask in the glow of their victory. As they watched him go, Anthony leaned in close, his breath warm against Penelope's ear.
"It seems our combined win have proven too much for poor Debling." He murmured, a hint of mischief in his tone. "Shall we celebrate our triumph with a turn about the grounds, Penelope?"
Penelope's eyes sparkled with delight as she nodded her assent, allowing Anthony to guide her from their seats and into the bustling crowd.
"Penelope, you have a remarkable talent. I am deeply impressed."
Penelope laughed softly, her voice sounding light and musical. "Thank you, Anthony. It was merely a fortunate guess. I must thank my papa for bringing me to such races when I was young. I must have picked up his knowledge when it comes to betting."
"Not merely." Anthony insisted, his eyes holding hers with a sincerity that made her blush anew. "It was your intelligence and insight. I am most blessed to have you by my side."
Penelope Featherington's heart fluttered at his words. In that moment, amid the clamor of the racecourse and the throng of the excited crowd, it felt as if it was just the two of them, sharing a private victory.
Anthony leaned closer, his voice a soft murmur meant for her ears alone. "Thank you, Penelope, for making this day unforgettable."
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "The pleasure is mine, Anthony. Truly."
As the two finish their turn at the grounds, they find themselves being waited upon by an impatient Eloise.
"Brother, surely you cannot monopolize Penelope's time all by yourself! If I remember correctly, I am the one who invited her to come for the races today." Eloise grumpily tells off her oldest brother.
Being friends with the brunette since their leading strings, Penelope has already been accustomed to such behavior from Eloise. And just to defend Anthony's honor from his annoyed sister, she reminded Eloise that it was actually Lord Debling who had initially invited and brought her today at the Ascot.
"Might I remind you, that it was Lord Debling's invitation I have come to accept, Eloise." The redhead smiles at the Bridgerton mischievously. This gains Eloise a scoff from Anthony, the latter rubbing off his sister with a finishing stubborn smirk.
"True as it may be, but you have given his invitation a considerable thought because of me, is it not?" Eloise looks at Penelope with eager eyes, silently pleading for her to say 'yes' and rub that idea back off to Anthony.
But Penelope does not want to come in between the two siblings. Being in the presence, albeit at the sidelines, of the Bridgerton brood for years, she has come to know how each of them have been competitive with one another. And she does not want to take part in any of it. Yet.
And so, before anything escalates to something, she had excused herself from the Bridgertons citing she had to go look for Lord Debling so he can accompany and escort her home.
Anthony and Violet tried to dissuade her, telling the young Featherington that she can come join them on their carriage and they will be the one to drop her off. Penelope, however, declined, as it was improper for her to leave Debling without informing him as he had escorted him for today after all. She then excused herself and took the steps to look for her maid and for the young lord.